United: The 150th Annual Hunger Games
by District5Ravenclaw
Summary: We will fall alone, if we don't stand united. Open SYOT
1. Chapter 1

Prologue: Fate

Capital, January 1, 657 AGF (After Great Floods), Day of the Quell Announcement

Aurelia Snow was never one to believe in fate.

This world had no fate. Only choice.

Don't get her wrong though, she loved a good coincidence… or at least, most people thought it was, if they knew the humor of the situation.

She grinned with dark malice, as she walked out to the crowd of cheering Capitalites.

And that grin widened as Aurora Mellark, avox and granddaughter of the dastardly Katniss Everdeen, walks up on stage with a small, polished linoleum, box in her hands.

She hands Aurelia the box, glaring into her eyes with pure, concealed rage.

"You wouldn't dare," she communicates in the evil, malicious grin she gives her before brushing off the now insignificant avox and turning to the crowd awaiting her announcement.

"Hello, my beloved nation," she begins. "I am so excited to announce to you the twist of the Sixth Quarter Quell!" She is met with cheers.

"As you know," she starts," the first Quarter Quell's twist was that, since the districts made the choice to rebel, all citizens must cast a national vote to send in their tributes." She shudders, remembering the gruesome Quell where the tributes were almost entirely dangerous criminals, save the careers and the orphan Twelve girl, and the scarring deaths that followed.

"Next, the twist of the Second Quarter Quell was that, since for every Capitalite killed, two more rebel soldiers were murdered."

"Twenty-five years later, the twist of the third Quarter Quell was, to remind the districts that even the strongest among them could not rival that power of the Capital, all of the tributes were reaped from the existing pool of victors." More cheering is heard, and Snow remembers fondly seeing her grandfather extinguish the flame of rebellion with only the press of a button, and the explosion of some landmines.

"To remind the districts that their actions affected their young, the twist of the Centennial Hunger Games and Fourth Quarter Quell, all of the tributes were children of rebels between ages ." Aurelia grimaces as the old and war hardened woman remembers how Camellia Rosette destroyed the arena, committing suicide and leaving the Games victorless.

"For the Fifth Quarter Quell, to remind the districts the Capital is all powerful, the Capital decide the victor of the Games." There are particularly loud cheers for this Quarter Quell, for obvious reasons.

"And, at longlast, I shall now reveal the twist for the 150th Annual Hunger Games, the Sixth Quarter Quell!" There is a long, completely silent pause filled with anticipation as the nation waits.

"To remind the districts that they stood united, and fell united, all of the siblings of the reaped tribute will also compete in the Hunger Games."


	2. Resent

Chapter 1: The Bronns, Resent

**June 14, 567 AGF, Mars Academy, District 2**

Kitana quickly rushes down the spiraling staircase to the main floor, eager to see the results.

She is certain she has qualified as one of the female tributes to compete. She knows she is the best. Who cares if she has only had six months of training. Gladius has had his entire life to train and he lost to her yesterday. (Though, it might just have been because she threw a lit match at his pant leg. Thank goodness it didn't burn down the whole Academy. Then she'd be evicted for sure.)

She pushes open the heavy metal doors to find she is the first one there as always, but the list is still absent.

"Shit," she thinks, "you would think they would hurry the fuck up.

Just then that receptionist, Luciana, her name was, who always scowls like she should be in the Victors Village right then, comes in with a list that seems to be a few pages. She sees Kitana there, and says rudely, "Why are you standing there like you have a chance? I haven't even learned your name yet."

Kitana scowls, and gives her the finger. Most people can't understand her sign language, but she knows Luciana understood that.

This bitch has seen nothing of her yet.

She ignores the woman and races to the board, a mix of excitement, anticipation, and nerves, to find… Her name isn't on the first sheet.

She scans the second page to find hers at the very bottom. She is stunned.

This is an outrage!

They can't do this to her, do they know who her family is!?

Her family.

Shit.

She flashes back to the ultimatum, where they said they would allow her until the Reapings to train there. If she isn't selected, they are disowning her.

She knows the only reason for them letting her train is so that Gladius can get in.

Gladius.

Shit.

Just then her older brother of one year bursts through the door, still slightly charbroiled, completely ignores her, and rushes over to the board.

When he sees the results he immediately turns redder than a tomato, His neck tendons popping.

"YOOUUU!"

He marches over to her.

"You ruined it! If it wasn't for you I would be going into the arena! You fucking bitch! This was my last year!"

He punches her smack dab in the mouth, and that's when the shock finally leaves her, and dread fills her.

Her hopes are dashed.

All those days spent in the basement, putting all of her rage into swinging her scythe, all the rage from not being let in to the academy, just because she was mute. For her parents being ungrateful for their mute daughter, her sexist parents who never even bothered learning sign language. For nothing.

Other kids begin pouring in, straining to see if they've been excepted or not. But she already knows her results. She gives Gladius her rudest signs, and runs through the door outside.

Hours later, when she is in her parents' limosine, being taken to the care home, a plan begins forming in her mind…


	3. Pride

Chapter 2: The Dunbars, Pride

May 5, 561 AGF, Haraway Academy, District 4

Twelve-year-old Namor Triton, closely guarded by his parents and older sister Mera, and younger brother Triton, walk at a fast pace through the bustling crowd of the training city of District 4, City 8. All the while, Namor is shooting dirty looks at passers by, many ogling their eyes at him, as if they recognize him. They probably do.

Mera and his mother, Juniper, still cannot stop gushing over the fact that he is here. He is _alive._ Sometimes he wishes otherwise.

It is then they all arrive at the clandestine, seaside, Haraway Academy.

If Namor thought the city was bad…

As they enter, many of the families signing their children up for their next year, or wailing at the news their child has failed and will not be returning this year, or ever, stop at the sound of the heavy bronze doors' open and close, and stare at Namor.

His father shields him from view and they bustle to the back of a line.

Namor shoots dirty, snide looks at the people staring at him. "They found him, they found Namor Dunbar, and here he is." He looks at them as if he is still of higher quality after spending the past six months homeless in an old house in the woods.

He hates crowds.

He hates people.

He flashes back to that fateful day, when Mother had taken a sorrowful stroll in the same woods, and found him in that house. He hates to think of what happened to his friend Gale. A bullet between the eyes.

Mera, apparently, still cannot stop gushing, and is looking at her younger brother of two years like a woman looks at her newborn baby. God knows, he loves Mera, and Triton, and Mother and Father. Just don't tell anyone else that.

He turns, to see they are now almost to the front of the line.

Triton, his eleven year old brother, has a look of sheer suppressed excitement. This will be his first year. Namor's too.

They approach the peacekeeper, and they all gives their full names and ages, along with a blood sample. Namor notices that there is something peculiarly familiar with this woman. Her cold stare, or at least he suspects there is one behind her helmet.

It clicks as he leaves.

Mera holds him tight.

His old bully victim, Sandy, walks up, a sneer on his face.

He breaks his arm.


End file.
